Vacant Connections
by potterhard
Summary: that one touch of fingertips to shoulder, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy find their lives changing despite their objections. With a few bumps along the way, will Draco have to make Harry do something against his own will or will Harry come begging?


Vacant Connection.

**Chapter 1 – Prologue**

**Summary - **After that one touch of fingertips to shoulder, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy find their lives changing despite their objections. With a few bumps along the way, will Draco have to do make Harry do something against his own will or will Harry come begging?

Warning: Draco/Harry slash and a veela storyline. Rating is NC-17 or, in other words, M. Possible Mpreg.

Disclaimer: All characters are owned by the magnificant J.K Rowling.

Harry slowly opened his eyes feeling disoriented. As he looked around he found that he was standing in a dark, gloomy place with Hogwarts looming in the distance. Around him were towering and absurdly shaped trees, which curled their branches towards where Harry was kneeling. Harry's knees were paining him as the rocks underneath him cut into his legs. Over the top of the rocks and pebbles was the long staggering shadow of Harry's figure as the blue moon stretched out its light to every object. He knew that it was sometime close to midnight by just looking at the moon. The clothes on his back were torn and mud was close to covering every inch of his shirt. Harry felt an itching sensation under his eye where a fresh graze had appeared and he could also feel the crusty stickiness of drying blood from an older wound above his eyebrow. His arms had been pulled back behind his body and tied up tightly.

His eyes followed the winter moonlight as it shined along the forest floor and he paused for a moment as his eyes met with the darkness where moon dared not venture to. His eyes continued on past through the darkness until they reached the sight of a mist on the ground and dark figure standing in the middle of it all. As soon as Harry laid eyes on the figure, sharp pain erupted through his forehead, making Harry to bite down hard on his lip and causing his skin to tear and draw blood. His knuckles turned white as he dug his nails into his palms. He opened his eyes as the pain subsided and looked at the figure once again. He couldn't see the figure but he noticed a wand in the stranger's hand – a wand far too similar to one that has haunted his dreams on many occasions. A flash of pain erupted in the scar on his forehead, pulsating poison around the lightening shaped scar. He kept his eyes on the wand and he found himself reminded yet again of how much the wand, the brother to his own, had caused him so much harm and pain through out his life.

A howl from behind where Harry was kneeling echoed through the trees and the figure that stood in the darkness hung an arm into the moonlight. The moonlight hit the nearly translucent skin and his hands gripped his wand and pointed it in Harry's direction - his long thin fingers wrapped around the stick unnaturally, like a spider's legs, and the moon shimmered along his long, sharp, pale blue fingernails. It looked unusual to see such a beautiful thing of nature shine on something of a horrible form.

"Harry Potter," spat the man.

Harry stared coldly at the man as he now knew who it was. It was his opposite and the one that had haunted him everyday of his life since the horrid night at Godric Hallows. He had failed to kill Harry and has attempted to try and do this every year. But this time; Harry had a feeling deep down in his gut that told him that Voldemort would finally be successful. Harry moved his hands in the rope slowly because he didn't want to bring attention to his struggling against the binds. He gasped as the ropes cut deeper into his wrists and so he halted at trying to release his hands from the rope. The man stepped out of the darkness and blinked as the light from the moon hit his tall, skeletally thin, and frail snake-like form. His dark scarlet eyes were piecing at Harry and his nose was relevantly flat like a snake which is exactly what Harry thought of the man – like a slithering snake. And speaking of the devil, a snake slithered past the man's bare feet, her tongue rolling out with a hiss.

"Ssss we've finally got him, my ssss lord, right where we want him," hissed the snake.

The snake crawled up the man's body, hissing which seemed to pullulate as she hung on the man tightly. Harry was always left wondering about this snake and the way it acted towards her lord. Harry thought that the relationship between this snake and man, who she called her lord, was strange. It was like that snake loved the man but the man was incapable of loving and Harry knew this because it was love, the love of Lily potter, that saved his own life those years ago when the man first attempted to murder Harry. The man raised his hand that hung out in the moonlight and Harry startled slightly. He cursed himself in his mind because he had just shown fear to his one true enemy. Additionally, his reaction had made his wrist rub against the binds making pain shoot through his arms. Harry squeezed his eyes together in pain and missed the man raise his hand higher and leaned over to his shoulder to stroke the slimy snake head that was laid gently there.

"We have, Nagini," he trailed a finger on Nagini's under skin, his finger nails dragging in her scaly skin. "And now the boy who lived will finally die on tonight of all nights," said the man.

Harry's forehead creased with confusion and worry, tonight of all nights, what did he mean? Was tonight a night of importance and now he was going to die on this night? _Die?_ Harry knew that the gut feeling inside of him was correct, he was doing to die tonight and no-one would know that he was on the road to death except his murderer and his companion.

"Ssss yes, just as I predicted ssss, I told you that he would be here, Lord Voldemort," hissed Nagini.

A churning and twisting sensation began to occur in his stomach as he barely heard the snake say the name of the man in the distant shadows. A name that many people would have felt sick to their stomachs as they spoke the dreaded name but Harry knew that to show fear in saying the name made the name become fear it self.

Voldemort laughed coolly before giving his snake one last stroke and Nagini leaned her head towards Voldemort's hand when his touch on her was lifted from her head. Harry watched Nagini reaction to her master with wary eyes.

"And now, Harry Potter has come to die," said Voldemort, forcing a laugh.

Harry had not come to die, he came intending to fight Voldemort for one last time but Harry couldn't even remember how he came to being here. The last thing that he could remember was walking into the dark gloomy Forbidden Forest, leaving behind everyone he has ever loved fighting for their lives. He didn't want anyone fighting for him, it was his own battle and he always felt like all those deaths and all that blood was on his hands. That it was his entire fault.

"I have not come to die," said Harry calmly

On Voldemort's snake-like face was a sly smile, something that should never be on a face like that.

"Have you not? It appears to me that you have walked to your own death," His fingers flexed around his wand and his scarlet eyes glinted black for a split second before returning back to the red color they were. "You walked out here, knowing that I would kill you," hissed Voldemort. His hiss sounded too similar to Nagini.

Harry stared blankly at his opposite, "No," His anger pushed against his mental borders, trying to escape and attack but that anger soon became strained and was pulled back into the dark corner of Harry's mind. "I walked out here to fight you but you, the manipulative scheming bastard, have dishonored old wizard traditions when you had someone attack me and bring me to you when I was offering myself for a duel – for a final battle,"

"Laws and traditions are worthless to me when it comes to you, Harry Potter," snarled Voldemort. "You must and will die,"

"You seem so certain Tom," there was another outburst of a howl in the distance. "But you cannot kill me and you know that."

Voldemort took a step forward over the sharp rocks - his long black cloak dragged behind him. He lifted his wand arm up and he twisted his hand just like a snake would twist around its prey. The cloak hung from his arms, moving swiftly with the wind. "And why do you think this?" hissed Voldemort.

Harry didn't have a reason why but he ignored the feeling in his gut and hoped that whatever happened tonight that he would not die. He wasn't ready to leave this world for a reason that he could not remember or explain. Harry frowned as he pushed himself to remember what the reason was but each time he tried, he would come to a vacant dark part of his mind and then soon became fustrated with himself.

Voldemort's manic laughter brought Harry out of his frustrating attempts at remembering that one thing – pulling him out of the darkness of his mind.

"I thought so. There is no reason why I cannot kill you," His hand, that was still twisting, paused and his wand pointed straight in Harry's direction "Never the less, there is that assumption which the weak old fool, Dumbledore had made about Poor lily Potter's love protecting her only child, but you see, I've recently come to the conclusion that the old man was indeed correct,"

Harry stared at Voldemort and shifted slightly so he wouldn't noticed. When Harry shifted, the sharp rocks pierced into his knee's deeper than before.

"And what makes you think different now?"

Voldemort let silence linger in the air before replying "You are of age," His wand still pointed at Harry "Your mother's love is no longer protecting you," crackled Voldemort.

"You must realise that there would have been a day where I would succeed and overcome you and that day, Mr Harry Potter, is today,"

Harry saw Voldemort's mouth move before him but he could not understand what came out of his lips.

"Avada Kedavra"

Harry shot up in bed and tried to get as much air into his lungs as he could. That dream had been a lot more vivid than his previous ones; he'd woken up winded and had actually felt as though he'd been hit with the killing curse. He could remember the vehemence in Voldemort's crimson eyes as the man had uttered the two words that had killed countless others... He found that beads of sweat were on his forehead and ran down past his temple and he had gripped the bed sheets so tight that his knuckles were drained of colour. Harry searched around him for the twigs and the rock's that just haunted his mind a moment ago. When he couldn't see any sign of green land or nature around him but figures of his friends sleeping soundly, with the odd snore coming from his best friend, Ronald Weasley, he gave out a sigh of relief.

That dream felt so real to Harry. He had never experienced a dream so vividly before and he closed his eyes as he tried to regain the natural breathing pattern rather than the heavy breaths he was taking. Taking deep breaths through his nose and breathing out of his mouth.

The deadly words echoing through his mind.

_Avada kedavra, Avada kedavra, Avada kedavra._

Shuddering to himself Harry propped himself up against his pillows and hugged his knees to his chest. After several minutes of thinking to himself about his dream, he decided that he wouldn't get to sleep anytime soon, so he took out his wand off the desk beside him, whispering the light spell and he reached forwards to the end of his bed to unlatch the lock of the chest, seated at the bottom of his bed. He snatched the piece of parchment which lay at the top, waiting for its creases to breathe in air and to be stretched, and he muttered the words the map needed. He opened the map flat on his bed and began to scour the page for students breaking curfew – a thing he regularly did when he had one of his many dreams. Let's just say it took his mind off … things.

He waved his wand in front of the map slowly, giving his eyes the light he needed. His eyes examined the map. He found his own name on the map, the name was in the Gryffindor boys dorms, stationary just like he actually was and he put a fingertip to his name – never quite grasping the magical aspect of the map. He found it fascinating that this very map that he held in his hands could tell him exactly where everyone was; anywhere in the castle and that it was always correct.

Eye's searching the map, he saw, in one corner of the map, Professor Dumbledore pacing around his office. Harry noticed that Albus Dumbledore tended to be up at the late hours and he either was moving constantly or he would move to one side of the room but a few moments later, he would quickly move to the other. Harry decided that Professor Dumbledore must have kept his thinking until night and must have found pacing to help him think. He moved his eyes slowly to the other corner of the map of Hogwarts, making sure everyone was where they were meant to be, and found Mrs. Norris, the cat, in a long corridor just outside of the great hall and Harry could just imagine the screeching noise she would make when she caught someone out at the dark of the night. He had been caught many of times and had now gotten used the sound of her calling to Filch. Speaking of the Devil, Harry soon saw Filch patrolling the castle not far behind Mrs. Norris.

After endless silence of scanning the parchment, Harry could just feel time dragging on and so Harry went to shut the map but he halted when he saw a very familiar name, a name he had a hatred for. _Draco Malfoy. _A small growl built up in the back of Harry's throat at just the small thought of the blonde haired boy. Harry's eyes glared at the map but they softened as he slowly began to realise that Malfoy was far from the Slytherin quarters where Malfoy liked to pretend he was some sort of God. There was no denying though, that Malfoy had matured since the last time the end of their sixth year; his jaw was more squared, he'd broadened out a little in the shoulders, and - as strange as it sounded - His silver eyes seemed to hold a sort of wisdom, or knowledge that hadn't been there before. Draco had defiantly changed and Harry noticed this but of course, Harry still felt the same hatred he had towards Malfoy. Malfoy was in fact in the middle of a corridor, which was on the same ground as the prefects' lavatory.

Harry climbed out of the bed and slowly slipped his pair of tattered slippers which were placed at the side of his bed. His muscles tensed as he stretched out his arms and arched his back forwards. A low groaning noise came out of his mouth before he shoved the wand and map into the pocket of his trousers; he slowly sneaked around to the chest at the end of his bed, where he previously had got the Marauder's map from, to avoid waking any of his fellow Gryffindor students. Harry gripped his Father's, James Potter, invisibility cloak and felt the smooth silk run over his own fingertips as he whipped it around his body so it hung from his head and barely just covered his body. If he were to stretch just one small bit, someone would be able to see a flash of skin. He exited the Gryffindor tower slowly and carefully, trying not to make any noise, out in to the dark, cold corridors.

There was no one to be seen out around the castle at night and Harry liked it like that when he occasionally took a midnight stroll. He'd rather have the silence than the loudness of students. That's why Harry spent most of his time outside, away from everyone and the loud hum of chatter that surrounded the castle.

He dug his hands in to his pockets to pulls out the piece of parchment and he muttered softly "Lumos maxima," a beam of light erupted out of his wooden wand and light stretched out over the map as he saw that he would soon be approaching the boy he hated. Malfoy was just around the corner and Harry didn't even know why he had come out. Yes, he wanted to know why Malfoy was out from the dungeons but it had nothing to with Harry but he felt like he had to know. A faint sob that echoed through the corridor's brought Harry out of his musing as he shook his head with disbelief that Malfoy had just made that noise. He convinced himself that he was imagining noises as Malfoy would never cry or had ever sobbed before. Well, at least, Harry hasn't seen him sob ever.

His feet moved towards the sound, his shoes patting softly against the stone tiles as he turned the corner. Up ahead of him, he saw a lean body sit on the floor crouching with his arms wrapped around his knees and his head digging into his slim arms by the wall. Harry saw the boy shake violently as sobs continued to come from Malfoy. Malfoy was taking deep breathes and Harry could see his chest heaving up and down rapidly. Harry began to feel curious at why Draco Malfoy, the Slytherin jerk, was crying and Harry soon began to think that this was some sort of trap but how could Draco had known that Harry had the Marauder's map? No, it can't be a trap but Draco Malfoy also cannot be sitting down on the floor of a corridor crying his eyes out.

Harry subconsciously took small steps towards Malfoy, asking himself what he was doing, should he walk towards the boy or just walk back and pretend like he didn't see anything. Harry wondered why Malfoy had not noticed Harry yet but then he remembered that he still had his cloak on, he quickly took it off and narrowed his eyes at Malfoy with disbelief that Malfoy is innocently sitting there, wary of the blonde's reactions.

"Malfoy?" said Harry. "Are you crying?" Harry kept his eyes on Malfoy, frowning slightly as he saw Draco jump up at the mention of his name.

When Malfoy realized who was standing there, he jerked back and wiped at his eyes roughly. "Go away, Potter." Harry raised one of his brows at the boy in front of him and repeated the question again – confident of the fact that Malfoy must be upset about something.

"Yes," there was a hint of annoyance in Draco's voice. "It's pretty obvious I am. Now leave me alone," spat Draco.

Harry lowered his brow and walked so he was standing in front of Malfoy, the cloak still in his hands behind his back and the soft silky feel of the cloak running on his fingertips as his fingers massaged the material.

"Are you going to tell me why you are crying?" questioned Harry.

"Why should I tell you anything, Potter? I hate you," glared Draco. "Just walk away and go and tell everyone that you saw the Slytherin prince crying,"

So much for being big-headed, Harry thought. There must be something really upsetting him, He wasn't even threatening Harry to stop him telling anyone about this.

"I won't tell anyone," Harry knew that he wouldn't like Malfoy to tell anyone if the situation was turned and Malfoy caught Harry crying. Even though, Harry knew that if this actually happened, Malfoy would jump at the first chance to tell everyone. "I actually have good morals, Malfoy."

In return, Malfoy stared at Harry. "I don't know why you would want to know, Potter, It has absolutely nothing to do with you," he said flatly, staring at Harry with disbelief. "Do you not understand the meaning of go away?"

"I know what it mean's," Harry dropped his head from Draco's stares, losing eye contact with him. "But I am having trouble understanding why you are sitting on the floor, in an empty corridor of all god damn places, in the middle of the night?"

Draco continued to stare at Harry and did not give him an answer. Harry groaned with annoyance and crossed his arms over his chest. He walked over to the side of Draco and slid down the wall to sit next to Draco.

"Look, I don't know why I am talking to you like you are someone I care about, but you are obviously upset and if there is something wrong, well, maybe there might be something someone can do. But only if you tell someone," said Harry as softly as he could even though he was annoyed. Why was he acting like this towards Draco of all people? He just had a feeling deep down in his gut, that he had to be sympathetic towards Draco.

Draco stared and his eyes met with Harry's. As Harry looked back up at Draco, giving him a soft gaze but Draco snapped and shook his head.

"There is nothing anyone can do and not even," he gave Harry a small push. "You can't do anything, now use that small brain of yours or your common sense and leave me alone," he retorted harshly.

"Stop being such a girl," said Harry with a quick roll of his eyes.

"I am not being a girl, I just want you to simply get up and walk the hell away," hissed Draco. "But you can't even follow a simple request,"

"Maybe that's because firstly I won't follow a request from a jerk like you and secondly, I won't go until you tell me what is wrong," said Harry, staring at Draco.

Draco looked back Harry with angry eyes. The corridor was awfully quiet around them, their voice's echoing. Draco liked the quiet but right now, he couldn't stand it as now Harry's voice was amplified over the silence and Draco hated that. Only being able to hear the voice that he had hated since first year and nothing else was something he had not wanted but now had to do.

"You cannot call me a jerk, when you are the biggest prick in this school, _Potter_," Harry's last name rolling off the tip of his tongue. "Chosen Prick," he muttered amongst his breathe.

Harry only just caught what Draco had said about him and gave him an automatic glare.

"For Merlin's sake, Malfoy, just tell me what is wrong!" Harry stressed, fed up of Draco's changing of the subject.

"Nothing, Potter!" Draco growled. "How many times-"

"You say nothing, but look at you! You're a wreck! What the hell happened? You look like you've been up all night." Indeed, the more Harry looked at the boy, the more he realised that Draco looked different from his usual self; his eyes were bloodshot, his face was pale, had a green tint and around his eyes was a black outline. Even his normally impeccable hair was tousled and unkempt, as though he hadn't taken any pride in his appearance before venturing out.

"Nothing happened, Potter," Draco bit out through his teeth. "Just sod off, would you?"

Harry scoffed. "I doubt that; you'd ever leave the dormitory with your veela-like hair looking THAT dishevelled in public, even at this hour."

Harry heard Draco take a sharp breath and his eyes look at Draco as he saw Draco move away from Harry and his eyes widened. Harry felt confused as to how Draco had reacted to what he said to him. What was there in what Harry has said that made Draco do this?

"Hey, what is wrong? Have I said something?" frowned Harry.

He is just being childish. Why can't he just tell me what is wrong? Thought Harry. But I don't even know why on earth I want to know what is wrong, maybe because he is my enemy and the one person I hate nearly as much as Voldemort. Maybe If I know, I will know a weakness of his.

Draco shook his head.

"Look, what ever I have said-"

Harry reached out to gently place his hand on Draco's broad shoulders only to jerk back when a cold tingling sensation rushed through his fingertips. What was that feeling? It felt so strange and it felt like nothing Harry had ever experienced before, it was a good sensation.

Draco eyes widened even more as Harry touched him and he found himself fighting the urge to lean into Harry's touch. It felt magical and like a brand new thing. He felt his heart flutter and a link between his heart and that touch began to entangle together. A strong bond that felt so unbreakable that it pulled inside of Draco, pulling at his muscles.

Harry glanced at his hands and whispered, "Did you feel that?"

"Feel what?" croaked Draco, still with his eyes wide. Draco knew what he had felt, something strong, and something that he himself could not explain. Whatever he felt, he was wary of it and did not want to feel it again no matter how much he liked the sensation. He jerked back from Harry, even though he felt the need to get Harry to touch him again, the want of the feeling again.

Harry shook his head as he pulled his hand towards him, rubbing at his hand roughly. "I must be imagining things then," said Harry softly. "Just ignore me,"

Draco said nothing, as he studied Harry's emerald orbs. He wanted to confess to Harry that he too had felt something but he couldn't bring himself to. It was as if whatever he and Harry had just experienced meant something, which meant something big and Draco did not know what but what ever it meant, it was powerful and yes, magical and something bigger than just a tingling.

Harry replied with his own stare on Draco. His face questioning Draco, scanning Draco's face for some answers but when he got nothing from Draco's blank mask, he glanced down at the stone tiles.

He gulped before whispering "I'm sorry for upsetting you," Harry paused, thinking about what he could say without making Draco react harshly towards him. He didn't want to anger the boy. "I shouldn't have touched you and," His hands entwined into each other, his fingers fumbling amongst one and another. Harry only did this whenever he didn't know what to say or was nervous. "And for that, I guess I am sorry?" said Harry, unsure about whether he has said the right thing and he bit down hard on his bottom lip, his teeth digging into his flesh, just enough to not bare blood.

The way Harry looked right now, childlike, naive but yet so guilty, made Draco gulp as he fought the urge to run his thumb over Harry's reddened lips and to grab Harry's hand so he could hold his hand in his own. He didn't know why he wanted to do this, he had never wanted to do this before, and especially to one he hated the most and called his enemy. Draco just did and he felt sickened with himself for even thinking of such a thing.

"Yeah, yeah," muttered Draco, trying his hardest to not to say to Harry that he had no reason to be apologizing and that he is the one who should be apologizing, but Draco had no idea why he wanted to say these things. It pained him inside, an unusual pain that tingled and made him want to crouch in pain, it hurt him for him to bite his tongue and not shout out that it was his entire fault.

Harry looked up at Draco and then back down at his entwined hands. His hands resting on his knees. "Is that all you can say, 'yeah, yeah?'" Harry said slowly "Is that all you can say, even after I have apologized? Draco, I know we are enemies but even I thought you had more compassion than that," Harry narrowed his eyes at his hands before pushing him self up the wall to stand up.

"I think this has been a waste of my time," He glanced down at Draco, feeling confused as he met Draco's soft gaze. "I thought that becau-"

Harry was interrupted by the sound of purring, and when he looked down the corridor, he saw that Mrs. Norris was now staring at them with piecing eyes. Harry stood still and Draco stared at the cat, hoping that she would just walk off but Draco should have know better as she meowed loudly before slinking off back to Filch, the caretaker at Hogwarts.

Harry could hear the sound of paws patting slowly fading, the silence overpowering the faint sounds. He knew it wouldn't be long till Filch comes creeping around the corner, sending them straight to their head of houses and punishing them.

Even though, both Harry and Draco know that Filch would soon be approaching them, Draco kept his gaze on Harry, unable to avert his eyes away. His eyes were still fixed on Harry as he groaned quietly but frustrated and stood up abruptly. Under Draco's piecing eyes, Harry shifted on the spot awkwardly, Draco noticed, his hands still fumbling with one and another.

With his arms tensed at his side, Draco heard Harry mumble something softly, but he did not quite catch what Harry said. So just shrugging off what Harry had tried to say to him, Draco tried with all his might and turned on his heels, and Harry stared at the back of Draco's fine head, feeling confused about what has just happened, but he knew he couldn't do anything to help it as he watched Draco start to proceed in walking away from Him.

"Bye, then," muttered Harry, watching Draco before turning as Draco had done and sulking off in the opposite direction, his hands hidden in his pockets.

Harry glanced behind him as he heard footsteps fading and he saw that Draco had vanished from sight. Harry's eyes turned saddened as he looked at the absent space where Draco was just, the tingling feeling still present in his fingertips. He flexed his fingers as he headed in the direction of the Gryffindor Tower.

Draco slammed the door behind him as he entered the one place that he could call his sanctuary, his own private head-boy dorm. He tugged at his tie and hastily pulled it over his head, the tie scraping along side his head so that when had managed to pulls the tie off, his hair left traces of some sort of struggle and there were strands of hair that stuck out. He quickly undid the tight hold his collar had around his neck by undoing the top button as he found himself struggling to breath evenly and his breathe was now turning jagged. On his face were beads of sweat that poured past his temples and trailed down to the corners of his lips, the dry corners of his lips. Draco didn't understand or even know what was happening to him and he could feel the panic build up inside of him.

He managed to walk towards the bottom of his bed, panting as he fell to the floor, his legs collapsing from under him. He leaned his whole body on the wooden board that was behind him and his head were tilted back to rest his head on it. His arm's drooped to the floor, his arms turned so his palms were now facing upwards. He tried to reach into his own trouser pocket to get out his wand but he could hardly lift his arms up because they felt rather heavy as if they were being crushed by a pile of rocks or at least, being held or pinned down to the cold and hard stone floor of his bedroom. He felt his heart racing and beating rapidly like his body was trying to pump more blood around his body. His body was flushed with heat and his cheeks was nothing but red. He could feel his pulse quicken as his ears pounded but suddenly, with a gasp, his body froze as a wave of energy pulsated through his body. The air around stood still and he heard nothing. His body was lightless and he began to feel like he was floating on clouds as his head rolled and his eyes drooped, his eyelids feeling light on his eyes. He blinked when he felt all the energy drain out of him.

Draco had no idea why this was happening to him but he hoped that it had nothing to do with his … problem. He shivered as he felt a lost of energy inside of him. He suddenly felt cold like as if all the warmth had left him and he knew that the warmth would now be vacant. He would have to find that warmth. He put a hand to his forehead and his hands became damp. He smoothed his hand over his head before shakily pressing his hand to the floor and the other hand to bed to try and steadily pull him self up. His knees wobbled slightly but he stood still and got his balance before attempting to at least walk around his bed to sit.

He sat on the bed. Should he go to hospital wing? Oh no, that would cause attention to him and before he would know it, everyone around the school would catch wind of it. His fellow Slytherin's would tease him for him. Poor Draco feeling a fever and he had to go to the wing. Should he tell someone about it? It was rather unusual and was defiantly not something he has experienced before. He groaned as he tried to figure out what he should do. He laid flat down on the bed, his head sinking in his pillow. He had never felt more thankful for the fact that he was alone but at the same time, wished that someone was there to tell him what had just happened. He wrapped his arms around him self as he continued to shiver rather violently now.

He gulped as he rolled over to his side and bored into the desk, the same thoughts repeating in his mind before he decided that he should just man up and forget about the whole experience. The one he just had and the … feeling Potter gave him. The feeling that he was sure had left an imprint on him. He could still feel it faintly as he laid there but he put it down to his imagination. He tried to think about something different. Think about …. You and Blaise. Think about …. You and Blaise. He kept repeating that in his head and he soon found himself forgetting about the other things and he smiled softly to himself but he still felt a space in his heart, or was it his soul, that was empty and needed to be filled. Someone to fill this vacant part of him.


End file.
